Franklin Roosevelt stunned his cabinet speechless on Feb. 1, 1937, by introducing a radical plan to tame the hostile Supreme Court.
The vice-president was the first to speak. “Before that law comes back up here for the Boss’ signature, many, many moons will pass,” predicted John Nance Garner of Texas.
After burying Republican Alf Landon at the polls in November 1936, FDR began his second term with a blank-check mandate from the American people, or so he thought. Working in secret with his attorney general, the president devised a foolproof scheme for neutralizing his number-one nemesis, the U.S. Supreme Court.
Under the generous guise of helping out the older jurists, Roosevelt recommended the appointment of a co-justice for each member of the High Court with ten years service or over the age of 70. As luck would have it, the seven sages that qualified for “assistance” were all conservative critics of the New Deal. Even if no one took the hint and retired, FDR would still wind up with a sympathetic majority on the revamped court.
Frostbitten by the cold reaction from his inner circle, Roosevelt decided not to break the news to congressional leaders until two hours before submitting the bombshell legislation. Offended by the timing and shocked by the unprecedented scope of the proposal, lawmakers left the Oval Office in a daze.
On the White House steps, Rep. Hatton Sumners of Dallas turned to his colleagues and solemnly said, “Boys, this is where I cash it in.” Coming from the chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, the pronouncement meant court restructuring faced an uphill battle.
Sumners and fellow Texan Sam Rayburn, the House Majority Leader, had been buddies since going to Washington together in 1913. Nevertheless, Mister Sam could not convince his old friend to change his mind.
Sumner’s strategy was simple. So long as he kept the pending legislation bottled up in committee, the presidential brainstorm could not reach the floor of the House for a vote. When Roosevelt figured out what he was up to, he phoned the foot-dragging chairman.
“Hatton, when are you going to report those bills out of your committee?”
“Mr. President,” the congressman replied respectfully, “I don’t believe they ought to be reported out.”
Roosevelt reacted with a threat. “How would you like to have your committee taken away from you?”
Refusing to be bullied, Sumners retorted, “Who in the hell is going to do it?” At a loss for words, FDR slammed down the receiver.
Heeding the usually reliable advice of Rayburn, the president gave the Senate a try. As the bill was read to the upper body, Vice-President Garner made clear his feelings. Holding his nose with one hand and turning thumbs down with the other, he stalked out of the chamber.
The court plan fared no better in the Senate Judiciary Committee due in large part to the opposition of yet another Texan. Sen. Tom Connally, who already had denounced the move in a speech to the Lone Star legislature, refuted point by point the argument presented by administration spokesmen.
As the weeks of senate hearings dragged on, public support for the Roosevelt proposal steadily eroded. Two liberal justices hammered another nail in the coffin by declaring that an expanded Supreme Court would only be a hindrance.
On May 18, 1937, the Senate Judiciary Committee voted down the court bill by a 10-8 margin. But that same day Justice Willis Van Devanter resigned giving the president his first appointment and tipping the scales in favor of the New Deal.
Roosevelt was, however, far from satisfied. Believing his credibility was at stake, he pushed ahead with his sweeping reform of the judicial branch.
The president counted on his running mate to steer the beleaguered bill through the troubled waters of the senate, but Cactus Jack shrewdly took a powder. Before FDR knew what had happened, the Veep had gone home to Uvalde.
Garner’s absence and the sudden death of the Democratic majority leader in the Senate doomed the last-ditch drive to defeat. Blaming the embarrassing setback on the Lone Star triumvirate rather than his own faulty judgment, he vowed to punish the Texans for their political sins.
Yet in spite of a prolonged stay in the presidential doghouse, the trio fared amazingly well. Until he voluntarily left congress in 1946, Hatton Sumners kept his committee chairmanship. Tom Connally went on to serve 24 years in the Senate, a record for a Texan. As for crusty Jack Garner, who denounced President Roosevelt’s desire for an unprecedented third term, he was quite pleased be dropped from the ticket in 1942.
And none of the three ever regretted teaching FDR a hard and very important lesson.
Order Bartee’s books “Murder Most Texan” and “Texas Depression-Era Desperadoes” from the “General Store” at barteehaile.com or by mailing a check for $26.65 for each copy to Bartee Haile, P.O. Box 152, Friendswood, TX 77549.
